


Spill Your Guts

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Series: Avatar Jon (AKA: Other Entities snag the Archivist) [10]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bullying your boss as a love language, Cannibalism Mentions, Disordered Eating, Elias Dies!!, Flesh Avatar Jonathan Sims, Fluff, Found Family, Good Cows (The Magnus Archives), Kinda gross guys, Mild Gore, Short Jonathan Sims, The Flesh - Freeform, raw meat, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25322146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: The Head Archivist was a strange man. He never asked questions.
Series: Avatar Jon (AKA: Other Entities snag the Archivist) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818751
Comments: 46
Kudos: 268





	Spill Your Guts

**Author's Note:**

> I AM EDITING ALL MY FANFICS BECAUSE I REREAD THEM AND THREW UP AT MY PROSE. Just wanted yall to know. 
> 
> I hate the flesh so much. Its the worst. Its like, ohoho cannibalism. Not scary. I hate it. I hate the dysmorphia and body hatred paired with it too. Anyway. Feral Jon rights i guess.
> 
> Socials
> 
> Insta: tea_is_not_them  
> Tumblr: tea-is-not-them  
> tiktok: teaisnotthem
> 
> Fanart link at the bottom!!!

Jon never asked questions. It just wasn't something their boss did. It was always direct statements or round about ways of asking. It was a quirk that they had learned to accept. There was also just the weird way he existed. He never ate around them, let alone opened his mouth other than to tell them about a project they were needed on. Jon did not smile, which seemed a bit sad. There must have been something wrong with his joints as well, because they protest like the living dead when he moved.

Jon came out of his office and rolled his shoulders. He must have been sitting in a very wrong position because all of his joints cracked. It was so worrying that Martin almost asked him if he was alright, but he held back, knowing he would only get a Look in return. Jon walked perfectly fine though, even though they all heard the way his bones popped and snapped like fireworks. He waved to the three as he went to grab something out of the cabinet, before turning back to his cave of tapes and statements. 

Martin had moved into the archives after his call with Jane Prentiss. After moving in it was easy to notice Jon stayed really late, the workaholic, leaving in the wee hours of the morning or not leaving at all on occasion. 

It was close to five, and Martin had expected Jon to stay as he usually did. Today though, he looked pale, at least, as pale as he could get, and he waved at Martin before giving a quick muttered, “have a good night.” Then he closed the door in a rush, as if he could not wait to leave this place.

\-----------

When Jon got home he sighed and closed the door behind him. Placing his head head on the door he felt the cold seep into his feverish skin, it was too hot in the archives. He was so so hungry. He hated everything about the feeling. The hollow emptiness that came with forgoing for too long. 

He opened his fridge and made a face at the package of defrosted meat. He used to be vegetarian, and here he was, unable to stomach anything but uncooked meat and gore. As much as his mind hated it, he was salivating as he pulled the package out of its spot between other packages of meat and bottled water and coffee. He undid the package and poked it with his finger. Not yet. It was still freezing and he wasn't a masochist, so he would let it sit on the counter.

Briefly he looked in the mirror and made a face, his lips pulling away to show sharp fangs and canines. Sharp teeth were a bitch to hide from coworkers. 

He rolled his eyes and decided to shower, feeling all around horrible from the day. Sticky and a headache growing from hours of reading statements. Maybe he should eat more often, and maybe he should take better care of himself. That would mean buying more meat, and honestly he was slightly concerned how the grocer would handle him coming in every week. The weird looks were already enough. Also eating more would mean doing less work, and he would rather not look like a lazy layabout. 

When he finished boiling himself alive in the shower, and avoiding the mirror, he went and had dinner. No matter how many faces he made at the bloody meat, it was exactly what he had needed. 

(He wondered briefly how it would look if someone saw him, sharp teeth gnawing on a piece of meat like a rabid animal. There was blood on his lips and maybe a bit dribbled down his chin, landing back on the plate. It was probably unpleasant to witness. Must be disgusting, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care when he was alone.)

\----------

Jude Perry was at his archives. Jon wondered what in the hell she was doing there, standing in his archives, talking to him like he knew her personally. Her whole self-aggrandizing speech. The assistants were watching tersely as she tried to goad him into saying something, into shaking her hand. Jon knew better than to listen to anyone like this. She was like him, although different. 

The archives were hot. Steaming actually. Jon could hear the AC kicking on as she had started to descend the stairs but standing in front of her was practically like standing in front of an open oven. He supposed that she was like Agnes Montague, made of flame and heat. Normally he would be listening as she told him her statement, but his mind was wandering. 

Then her hands got close to him, and he panicked. She was going to burn him! No!

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, before slapping a hand over his mouth, the other covering it. His voice had been weirdly scratchy and distorted, strange. The tape recorder was on, how had it gotten there? It was listening intently.

Jude was about to answer, before her hand came to her throat, as if something was happening, as if something was coming up. The archival assistants watched in fascinated terror as Jude Perry began to throw up her guts. Whatever could be considered guts at least, her being made of wax made the process different from a person. 

The molten hot wax spilled out of her mouth colored a dark red, almost like an inferno, her eyes filling with terror as she stared at Jon. Jon was starting back, her fear not feeling as potent without the blood and flesh behind it. His mind supplied that her corpse would go to waste, because it would be nothing but melted husk after she had finished, maybe that was why he was so unsatisfied. 

Her last noises of agony filled the room, and then it went silent. Jon was struggling to breath, from both the anxiety, humidity and the weight of the stares he got from his assistants. 

The hollow victory was silent until someone, Tim, spoke up, his eyes raising from the waxy corpse.

“What the hell was that?!”

Jon looked up, his brows knitting together, “I think I can explain.”

\----------

“Wait, you eat raw meat?” Tim asked, “Like a cat?”

Jon made a face, “Sadly yes. It’s rather gross.”

“That’s why you don’t eat lunch with us.” Sasha leaned closer, as if staring at his teeth would hold the answer to what exactly he was.

“That is the reason yes.” Jon replied, self consciously he covered his mouth. His eyes went to anywhere but where he was expected to look, there was no way he wanted to make eye contact at this moment. 

“Well. This will be weird to get used to, but I think we can deal with this.” Martin spoke up, handing everyone a cup of tea. He was so good about taking care of people that Jon wanted to complement the skill. He still felt sick that anyone knew this about him, but it was nice that they were trying to be kind to him, even if he was a carnivorous horror.

“You ok Jon?”

“Yes. Just, hungry. I can ignore it for a while though.” Jon chewed on his lip softly, enough that he wouldn’t suddenly stab through his skin at least. He listened as the conversation drifted away, feeling both peaceful and sick. 

\-----------

Jon walked with the other three for drinks. He was almost excited, though he wouldn't drink much. He was too scared that he would accidentally make someone ‘spill their guts’ as Tim had put it. Sasha was talking about this one book series she was reading about demons or some such, Tim was harping her about how it was a little YA of her. Martin was trying to hide his laughter, and Jon was basking in the comfortable friendship.

He took a breath, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of the air on his face. When he opened them he noticed the group was ahead of him. He was a slow walker, and Tim was setting the pace, the madman always walked like Hell was going to catch up to him if he slowed down.

Jon sighed and rolled his eyes, getting ready to catch up before feeling a hand over his mouth. He panicked for a second and without thinking bit down as hard as he could. There was a scream from behind him. The assistants turned and Jon frantically got away from the person. When he catches up he wipes the blood from his lips, looking back at whoever tried to grab him. It was a Hunter, though he didn’t know him. 

“Jon are you ok? Who is that?”

“I don’t know. I’m fine I can handle myself.” he wanted to speed up, the hunter still cursing over it’s hand. Jon would deal with that issue later. 

\-----------

Elias looked at Jon, his archivist and felt annoyance. Jon never asked questions. Jon was always too nice to statement givers. Jon was showing no growth as an archivist at all. Jude Perry died before she could even mark the man.

“Jon, you really are doing terrible at your job. You never ask questions, are you sure you know what you’re doing.”

“Elias you came in at a bad time.” Jon said back, continuing typing away at his laptop. He knew Elias had sent Jude. He found out everything Elias was trying to do to him, and instead of wanting to know more, he wanted to be left alone. He was little hungry, and if Elias kept talking he might find a fancy in turning the smug bastard into a chew toy. 

Elias’s face was dark, staring intently at Jon, “Take this seriously.”

Jon practically growled, before looking up and smiling pleasantly and making eye contact, “Take what seriously Elias?”

“There! A question. Wait what-” 

Jon watched as Elias threw up his guts, his eyes widened in fear. Poor thing. Jon watched with intent and precise eyes, the horrifying gore making him both disgusted and intrigued. "Not too fun is it Elias?" The second wave of guts came from the man and Jon hummed, staring at the crumpled body from his seat, the feeling of being watched starting to calm. Jon ran his tongue over his teeth. Now he had to clean this mess up, but at least he had all weekend.

\-------------

“Hey Jon!” Sasha came into his office with a smile.

“I presume this is all work related.” He stated, careful on his tone. Nothing that could be considered a question.

“Nope! Come on!” She pulled him from his desk and he huffed. 

“This seems suspicious Sasha.” 

Sasha grinned, “Astute observation! Happy birthday!”

Jon looked around to see the archives decorated for his birthday. How they had found it out was literally the biggest surprise to Jon, but he sighed.

“Ah. I see. I assume there are reasons.” he waited patiently for the answer. Tim was holding a box wrapped like a gift. Martin was smiling and holding a cake. Jon could not eat cake, he'd throw up if he tried, but he appreciated the sentiment. Tim clapped him on the shoulder.

“Happy birthday boss!”

“Happy Birthday Jon.” Martin smiled, and Jon hummed.

“Thank you all, this is nice.” He smiled a little before turning to look at all three of them, “But I hope you know I can't eat cake. Won’t digest right.”

Tim looked absolutely downtrodden but then perked up, “More for us then?”

“Yes more for you three.” Jon huffed a laugh, trying to hide his teeth while smiling. Sasha hummed, before walking over to the table, and he saw two more boxes. He blinked, not realizing that they all got him something. It made him feel warm, the smile growing a little. 

Tim held the box he must have wrapped, “open mine first!”

Jon rolled his eyes and carefully took it, he was bullied into sitting down as he opened it. Sasha held her Polaroid camera. 

“This is a dog bone.” His face spoke of the level of complete disbelief. Then looking directly at Tim he bit the bone hard. It didn’t break, but the crunch was deafening. Sasha was the first to interrupt the silence by laughing and showing off the Polaroid of both Jon’s deadpan face as he opened it, and the casual way he bit down on the bone. 

Martin was laughing heartedly, and Jon hummed. 

“Wonder how hard I have to bite to break this.” He said mostly to himself, but that sent another round of laughter through the three assistants. 

“Ok enough of the gag gift, here is mine!” Sasha handed him a box before getting back into picture taking prime. It was three books, all different authors. He smiled at them, all seeming very interesting. 

“Thank you.” He said it earnestly and smiled at the camera wielding woman. 

Martin gave his last, and it was a plushie of a highland cow. Jon’s eyes lit up slightly and Martin smiled. Tim threw a wink at Martin when Jon wasn’t looking.

“This is adorable. Thank you Martin.”

Martin felt a little flustered, “Good cows.”

Jon laughed, “Yes good cows.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art by Art Harridan on Instagram (Please go check out all of their Art, drop a comment and support the page!!)
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CDO0d5VlD3O/?igshid=19e5bmmffutd7


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